


Fantasy Island (2020)

by flowercrownfemme, pinkejessman



Series: Fantasy Island (2020) [1]
Category: Fantasy Island, One Direction (Band), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Animal Transformations, Fantasy Island (1977) - Freeform, Fantasy Island (2020), Fantasy Island AU, Fishing, Fishing Werewolves, Full House Prequel, Harry's The Mom, Lad's Holiday, Love That Hole, M/M, Maternity Yoga Pants, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, One Direction Anniversary, Pregnant Harry Styles, Stupid Smelly Pasta Boy!Liam, Ten Years Of One Direction, Top Zayn, Turtle Horror, Werewolves, drug mention, light body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25461439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowercrownfemme/pseuds/flowercrownfemme, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkejessman/pseuds/pinkejessman
Summary: “Are you alright?” the bearded man frowned.“I am now,” Harry smiled. He fluttered his eyelashes.“Did you hit your head?” the man asked, his thick brows furrowed.Harry laughed a charming laugh, the kind he practiced while watching Julia Roberts movies, and offered the man his hand, fingers splayed daintily.“Won’t you help me up?”“Of course.” The man scrambled to help him, placing one hand on Harry’s back to guide him to a sitting position. “I’m Derek Hale.”In which, to celebrate their tenth anniversary, One Direction finally goes on their Lad's Holiday and the destination will make all of their wildestfantasiescome true...
Relationships: Derek Hale/Fishing, Derek Hale/Harry Styles, Harry Styles/Pregnancy, Liam Payne/Pasta, Louis Tomlinson/Freedom, Niall Horan/Golfing, Niall Horan/Original Male Character(s), Zayn Malik/Revenge
Series: Fantasy Island (2020) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844224
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21
Collections: Momrry Fic Fest 2020





	Fantasy Island (2020)

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you and your friend go to the drive in to watch Fantasy Island (2020) and it's a very bad movie but you're both gay geniuses so you spend the entire night plotting out an au where One Direction goes to Fantasy Island and all of their dreams come true but also it's dark and twisted because this isn't your mother's Fantasy Island (1977) this is Fantasy Island (2020)!  
> We would like to preface the resulting piece of literature by saying:  
> 1\. We know that we are the only people in the world to have seen both versions of Fantasy Island and to walk away thinking this is a good idea.  
> 2\. It's a great idea.  
> 3\. Halfway through writing this we became the accidental owners of a baby tortoise (who only has four legs) (for now) and it just feels important to note that every plot point of this story had already been fully planned out by then.  
> 4\. We are not villainising Zayn. He is the only bitch in here that we respect.  
> 5\. It's _my_ birthday so _I_ get to be the baby.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to the probably six people who will like it. Sorry to everybody else.

“I can’t wait,” Harry said, his body visibly trembling from excitement in the large cushy seat of the private plane. “Aren’t you all excited?”

“Of course,” Louis said. “It’s  _ Fantasy Island _ . If anything I’m curious to see if everything people say is true.”

“I’ve heard they can bring the dead back to life,” Liam told them. “I heard they can make a poor man a millionaire. I heard a mermaid lives there!”

“And they’re gonna give me my baby,” Harry smiled wistfully. Everyone around him - Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn - nodded along dutifully. “It’s what I’ve always wanted, to be pregnant. Did I ever mention-”

“Yes,” Zayn cut him off before he could finish the thought. “If it’s about pregnancy, you’ve mentioned it.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think they can really do it?” Niall asked, drumming his fingers on his seat. “Anything we want? No matter what it is?”

“I guess we’ll see soon enough,” Louis shrugged.

Harry was looking dreamily down at his own belly and running his hand over it reverently.

“Thanks for telling us about this place, Zayn,” Liam smiled.

“Yeah,” Louis agreed. “I never would have thought to pick this for our Lad’s Holiday but it seems perfect.”

Zayn shrugged.

“I got an ad for it on Instagram. Seemed cool.”

“What did you all put down on the paperwork?” Liam asked. “Other than Harry, I mean. We know his.”

Harry had hooked his knees over the back of his seat and had twisted to lay with his pelvis lifted slightly, as if to aid in fertility.

“I think that’s kind of personal, Liam,” Niall sniffed, turning towards the window and sitting up straighter when he saw what was below them. “Woah, look outside!”

Everybody craned their necks and looked down at the sprawling island. Crystal clear waters lapped against white beaches dotted with rocks and palm trees, and through the gentle waves they could see a pod of dolphins twisting joyfully beneath the surface. One lept, casting a spray of water that glittered like diamonds. As the plane crept lower and lower, and they swept over the beach, a flock of colorful birds took to the air.

The five men clambered out of the small plane, weighed down with suitcases and bags and, in Harry’s case, three purses. When no one appeared to greet them, they hesitantly started making their way down the path that led to what looked like a resort, looming in the distance. 

As they approached the front of the resort they saw an older man leaning against one of the open door frames. He wore a white suit jacket with a crisp white shirt and a black tie and a pair of white cargo shorts. They all squinted as they got closer and realised the man was none other than Simon Cowll, their former employer.

“Oh,” Louis frowned. “Hey.”

“Hello, boys,” Simon Cowell smiled tightly. “Welcome to  _ Fan _ -tasy Island.”

He opened his arms to convey that this place they were at was, indeed, Fantasy Island.

“So you... work here...?” Liam asked.

“Yes,” Simon Cowell nodded. “I work here. It’s funny, isn’t it? I was the one to make your dreams come true all those years ago and here we are again. What a small world.”

“Okay,” Niall said incredulously.

“So how’s this work then?” Liam asked. “Is it like a VR thing? Do you hire actors?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Simon Cowell laughed hollowly. “This is  _ Fant _ -tasy Island! Leave the fantasies to me, boys. All you have to do is relax and enjoy. We’ve reviewed the paperwork you sent in and have prepared the perfect weekend for each of you, perfectly catered to your unique fantasies.” Some men and women in tailored bellhop uniforms filed out of the building and relieved the boys of their luggage. “My staff will bring your things to your rooms and I will escort each of you to your assigned bungalow. From there you’ll be free to explore the island as you wish, although I doubt you’ll want to leave your rooms once the fantasies have begun.”

“And when  _ will _ they start?” Harry asked impatiently.

Simon Cowell smiled.

“Yours already has, Harry.”

Suddenly Harry doubled over, a stream of vomit projecting straight onto Zayn’s shoes. Zayn jumped back with a shout but Harry just straightened up with a look of wonder on his face. He pressed a trembling hand against his lower belly and looked dreamily into the middle distance.

“You mean...?” he asked, his voice full of hope.

“Congratulations,” Simon Cowell said. “If you’ll just follow me, we can get you all settled in.”

#

Liam’s temporary home - a small bungalow along the island path, with tropical shrubbery growing wild around it - was sparse, but it didn’t matter. There was only one thing that he needed in order for it to truly be his fantasy come true, and that could happen no matter how fancy the house was. He marched from room to room, checking for it, leaving Simon Cowell standing awkwardly in his kitchen. Finally he marched out, cradling something against his chest with both hands.

“Is it really him?” he asked, though by that point he was already nuzzling it with his cheek.

“Your fantasy, Mister Payne,” Simon Cowell said. “One turtle, from your childhood, with all its limbs intact.”

And they were. The turtle, which had begun to nuzzle back with its small triangular head, had four sturdy legs poking out from under its shell. 

“It’s perfect,” Liam said in wonder. “It’s exactly what I wanted.” 

Simon Cowell rolled his eyes and left the house, but Liam didn’t notice.

#

“So,” Louis said. “How does this whole thing work? I feel like I missed some of the exposition.”

Simon Cowell sighed. “Did you read anything on the application?”

Louis was silent.

Simon Cowell sighed again. “At least you understood how to pay for the trip. All right,  _ Fan- _ tasy Island-” he waved a hand around to indicate their surroundings- “knows what you want. Well. You still have to answer the questionnaire, but mostly it knows what you want. And it’ll give it to you once you give me a quarter of a million dollars. You did that?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Then your deepest fantasy will soon begin, perfectly understood and orchestrated by the island. One fantasy per guest, and you have to see it through to the end. What did you put down as yours?”

“I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember,” Simon Cowell repeated flatly.

“I mean, Zayn kinda just linked us to the Yelp page, and we filled the stuff out,” Louis explained. “I figured it’s an island, we’d do island stuff. Carefree island stuff. Can I just have that?”

“Carefree island stuff.”

“Yeah, you know,” Louis nodded, “a chance to get away from being Louis Tomlinson.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Simon Cowell said, an odd smile creeping over his face. “Oh, before I forget. This is for you.”

He held out a large sheet cake that Louis hadn’t noticed him holding. It was covered in red, white and blue stars and “God Bless America!” was written across it in icing. There was a clearance sticker on the plastic cover.

“Sorry, they were out of carrot cake,” Simon told him. “It’s chocolate.”

“Er, thanks,” Louis frowned, taking the cake.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Simon said, stepping towards the door. “I think this will be an un _ fur _ gettable weekend...” [A/N: I don’t know why he gets a cake. I was high and thought I had figured out an amazing literary parallel but actually I was just high. It’s just a cake.]

#

Zayn walked through the door, grabbed the bong waiting on the table, and flopped down in a beanbag chair. There was a large TV hooked up to a row of gaming consoles beside stacks of video games. A minifridge next to the beanbag chair held all kinds of soda and beer and there were snacks piled up on the coffee table. Zayn kicked up his feet and flicked his lighter, taking a deep hit from the bong. He used one of the controllers to turn on the TV and flicked through the options.

He couldn’t wait for the fun to begin.

#

Niall hadn’t been sure how his fantasy was going to play out, logistically speaking. Just getting the five of them to the island had cost a small fortune, and everything pointed to it being very exclusive, missing the sheer amount of available people to make his fantasy work. But as they crested the hill, his worries melted away.

Standing before them, dotted across a golf course that spread out from the base of the hill, nestled into a valley lined with forest trees, were  _ men _ . Men leaning on clubs and practicing their swings, men clumped in circles around water stations, chatting, men in crisp polo shirts of every color. As his shadow stretched out across the grass, several of them turned and waved at him.

In a daze, he raised a hand in return. 

“How?” he said, not turning his gaze to Simon Cowell. “I- How?”

Simon Cowell handed him a set of clubs that hadn’t been there a moment before. “Do you want to worry about how? It looks like they’re getting ready to start.”

#

Derek could tell where the fish were. He stood nearly waist deep in the water but none were close enough to catch quite yet. So he stood still in the water and waited. Vaguely, he wondered what was happening at other places, places that weren’t the river, but those thoughts flowed away. They weren’t important. He closed his eyes. The fish came closer. He waited.

# 

Harry had rushed to the mirror the second he got to his house. Luckily, it seemed someone had anticipated his urgent need, because there was one in every room. There were baby things all over the house, play pens and soft toys and fuzzy little blankets, but there were also things for him. On the counter in the kitchen was a bottle of prenatal vitamins, and in the dresser were pairs and pairs of maternity yoga pants. He touched absolutely everything and changed into his new clothes.

On the bathroom counter he found rows of pregnancy tests, dozens of them in various shades of pink and blue and lavender. He exhausted his bladder weeing on every one of them and laying them all out in the living room to set. He watched in awe as each test turned up positive. He cried, looking at them all, and used one of the baby blankets on the couch to wipe away his tears. Then he made a smoothie with some of the farm fresh greens in the fridge and drank it while flipping through one of the sixteen books of baby names he found on the bookshelf.

After a while of reading his back began to ache and he twisted in his seat, trying to stretch it out. He looked out the window of the bungalow at the lush forest and thought of his favorite pictures on his pregnancy photoshoot Pinterest board - the ones of women with large rounded bellies looking so serene surrounded by nature. He decided to take a walk and connect with nature a bit himself.

He walked through the woods, feeling the sun filtering through the leaves and warming his bare skin. He paused in a patch of soft grass to do a few yoga poses in the sun. He breathed in and out, just like the pregnancy yoga videos he had bookmarked taught him to. It was very centering. He could feel the new life growing inside him. He wondered what size the baby was at this point.

Everything was quiet around him, but the more he focused on his breathing, he could hear the distant whisper of a river. 

He walked a little ways to the river. Nature is pretty. He felt so connected.

He looked at the river and saw his own rippling reflection. He gasped and pressed a hand to his stomach. Did he really look like that? When he’d left the bungalow he’d looked in the mirror, of course, but his stomach had barely been rounding out then. When he’d looked down during his yoga poses he had assumed it was just perception playing tricks on him, but no. In his reflection, he quite clearly had a baby bump; a modest one, sure, but undeniable. He leaned closer, in absolute wonder. He stretched out so that more of his body would be in the reflection, but at the same moment he felt something inside him shift, just so slightly, his foot slipped, and he tumbled headfirst into the river.

# 

Suddenly there was a crash that shocked Derek half out of his daze. Nothing like that had ever happened before. The water was always calm, and he could always feel the fish. That was how the river worked. But now there was definitely something new happening, something that was thrashing and yelling. He sprang into action, charging in the direction of the sound, and saw a half naked man drowning. Without thinking he grabbed him under the arms and started hauling him back onto shore, laying him out flat. When he did that, he realized the man’s stomach was sticking out unnaturally, distended and rounded in a way he’d only ever seen in pregnant women. The man coughed a few times, spitting out water and blinking blearily. 

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Derek said. He didn’t know what else to say.

#

There was a large wet man leaning over Harry. He didn’t know who the man was but he’d saved him from the river - saved his  _ baby _ \- and he was attractive, in a rugged woodsman sort of way. Harry wondered if this man might have a thing for pregnant men.

“Hell _ oooo _ ,” Harry sang, twisting in the dirt to find a more attractive position. He placed one hand delicately on his jaw and tilted his head then placed the other against the curve of his belly, hoping to highlight what were currently his best features.

“Are you alright?” the bearded man frowned.

“I am now,” Harry smiled. He fluttered his eyelashes.

“Did you hit your head?” the man asked, his thick brows furrowed.

Harry laughed a charming laugh, the kind he practiced while watching Julia Roberts movies, and offered the man his hand, fingers splayed daintily.

“Won’t you help me up?”

“Of course.” The man scrambled to help him, placing one hand on Harry’s back to guide him to a sitting position. “I’m Derek Hale.”

“You can call me the man of your dreams,” Harry simpered. “My friends call me Harry though.”

“Harry,” Derek repeated, still frowning. “Um, are you...? I know it’s rude to ask but-”

“Pregnant?” Harry smiled, framing his belly with his hands. “Yes. I am.”

“...how?”

“It’s Fantasy Island, isn’t it?” Harry laughed his Julia Roberts Laugh again, pretending to toss his long beautiful hair over his shoulder. “They can do anything.”

“I didn’t know they could do...” Derek glanced down at Harry’s belly, “That. I might have asked for a little more then.”

“Are you a guest then?” Harry asked. “We were told we were the only ones staying this weekend.”

“I was,” Derek said. “A long time ago. I’m not even sure how long to tell you the truth.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, rubbing his hand in circles over his stomach and wondering if it had gotten a bit bigger even while they’d been talking.

“I came to this island to get away,” Derek explained. “Back at home I could never be alone. I was always surrounded by teenagers, asking me to fix their problems and expecting me to be their friend.”

“Like a youth pastor,” Harry supplied.

“No. Not like that,” Derek frowned. “I just wanted to have a break from them for a while. I just wanted to go fishing, to have a few hours of peace and quiet. I’d drive to the local lake but before I could even open my box of bait there would be a teenager at my shoulder asking me to help them with lacrosse practice. So I drove further away, to different fishing holes, but every time they’d find me. Finally I found myself going all the way to the great lakes and I thought I’d finally lost them. But just as a huge bass was in my grasp there was another goddamn teenager asking where to hide a body. There was no escape.”

“You poor darling,” Harry tutted sympathetically, rubbing his hand over Derek’s forearm and trying subtly to feel his muscles. “That must have been awful.”

“It was,” Derek nodded sadly. “When I heard about this place I didn’t hesitate. I sent them half of my parents’ fortune and a note that said ‘I want to fish.’ They led me to this river and gave me all kinds of fishing poles and nets and fancy bait and dressed me in this outfit,” Derek gestured to the fly fishing vest covering his chest and the bucket hat on his head. “I didn’t need any of that stuff though. I just needed a body of water and some fish.”

“A true outdoorsman,” Harry nodded dreamily.

“They left me alone and I fished. They said they’d come get me at the end of the weekend and send me home but they must have forgotten. That was, God, 2015?”

“And you’ve just been out here all alone all this time?” Harry asked.

Derek nodded.

“Well not anymore,” Harry grinned. “Not with me around.”

#

Derek stood in the river with his feet shoulder width apart, crouched low with his hands beneath the water, ready to catch anything that swam his way. Harry, the pregnant man he’d pulled from the water just as he had so many thousands of fish, watched from the shore with a dreamy expression on his face. Occasionally he’d sigh loudly and when Derek looked over he’d blink rapidly. Derek wondered if there was something in his eyes.

It was strange to have somebody around again, somebody who needed him. Derek had almost forgotten what it felt like. It had been long enough that he’d almost started to miss it, just a bit.

A long shiny salmon swam straight into the space between his hands and Derek swiftly snatched it up.

“I’ve got our dinner,” he declared, holding the fish up triumphantly.

“Oh, raw fish is a no,” Harry said. “Raw fish is the absolute  _ worst _ thing to eat when you’re carrying a child.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Derek said. The fish flopped limply in his hands. He felt stupid just standing there holding it.

“We... we could start a fire,” Harry offered, suddenly shy and looking up through his eyelashes. “And cook it. I could eat it then.”

“All right,” Derek found himself agreeing. “Yeah, sure, we can cook it.” Harry beamed at him.

“Perfect,” he said. “You get that going, I’ll be right back.” He climbed awkwardly to his feet and without explanation started off through the trees.

Derek just shrugged and began to build a fire. While the flames grew he gutted the fish and removed the bones. By the time Harry returned with a stack of plates and silverware from his nearby bungalow, sipping a sludgy looking green smoothie from a mason jar with a metal straw, the fish was nearly cooked.

“Wow,” Harry said when Derek handed him a portion of fish on a plate. “I love a man who can cook.”

He placed a small hunk into his mouth and grimaced slightly at the bland flavor and chewy texture.

“Yum,” he said, a strained smile on his face as he swallowed.

Derek watched the way that the fire’s light played over his creamy skin and reflected in his large green eyes. Derek took his own bite of the fish and thought absently that he preferred his own method of eating the fish raw straight from the river but he didn’t mind it like this, not with a beautiful man sitting beside him, radiating the glow of pregnancy.

  
#

Liam was stirring a pot of pasta with one hand, cradling his turtle with the other. A guitar sat on the table, but he was still working on the melody and the lyrics.

“ _ I love you turtle girl, don’t make my heart hurt-le, girl, _ ” he sang. The turtle didn’t make a sound because turtles don’t tend to be incredibly vocal. “Yeah? You like that?” 

The turtle turned around on his palm and settled in, resting its head on his wrist.

“All right.  _ Turtle girl, turtle girl, you’re the center of my turtle-world, _ ” he continued. Another few minutes and the pasta would be nice and soft, and he could have a nice big bowl while the turtle munched on some leaves. He could work more on the song when they were done, he thought. It was coming along nicely.

#

It feels weird that “Carefree Weekend”s logical conclusion would be... making him a dog. Louis was definitely confused on why he was a dog. Don’t misunderstand, being a dog was not his intention when he started out on this. He’d been picturing a spa package, maybe some cocktails. Not being a dog.

After Simon left the bungalow Louis decided that maybe having his own personal sheet cake wasn’t so weird after all. It was the sort of thing he would have bought when he was eighteen and had a sudden excess of money and power for the first time in his life. Cake for dinner was the sort of thing that would have made six year old Louis feel like a king. Maybe it was to help him get in touch with all of the many younger versions of himself who had gotten lost over the years.

Louis set the cake on the small dining table and removed the cover, letting the scent of chocolate and sugary vanilla icing fill the room. He went to the fridge and poured himself the largest glass of milk that he could and selected the largest fork from the drawer. He was just pulling out a chair when the transformation happened.

Suddenly his thumbs were gone and he could only walk with all four limbs. He was much lower to the ground and couldn’t reach any of his things and when he tried to call for Simon to ask what was going on all that came from his mouth were loud barks.

That being said, it wasn’t all that bad. For sure he was feeling carefree. He’d spent a good half hour, maybe, running in a circle after his tail, and then he’d taken a nap, and then he’d had a good long drink from the dishes that appeared on the kitchen floor.

When he saw his reflection in his water bowl he thought he looked quite a bit like his own dog, Clifford, and he sort of wished that Clifford was there with him. It would have been fun to run around and play together.

Overall he wasn’t too worried. Sometimes he felt like he should be worried, but that passed, and he didn’t think that at all after he found the dog door. 

#

“Hey, Derek?” Harry whispered into the dark space beside him.

The sun had set quickly and Harry had watched by the light of the fire as Derek used his strong capable hands to build a small shelter for him and his baby. Harry thought it was maybe the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for anybody.

“Yes?” Derek whispered back, a frown evident in his voice even when all Harry could see was a faint outline of a man laying beside him.

“Have you ever heard of...” Harry slid his hand across the ground between them, aiming for Derek’s upper thigh but hoping he might catch his crotch by accident. Instead his fingers pressed firmly against Derek’s belly button. He decided to go with it. “Pregnancy hormones?”

Derek stayed silent but Harry could still feel his frown radiating towards him.

Harry dipped the tip of one finger into the dimple of Derek’ belly button through his henley.

“I need you to fuck me.”

Derek placed his hand over Harry’s where he was still lightly fingering Derek’s belly button.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “It’s for the good of the baby.”

“I don’t know if that’s true.”

Harry was already crawling over to press their bodies together.

“If I suck your dick could you still fuck me after? I’ve got lube in the bungalow.”

Derek sighed.

As Harry fumbled with the button of Derek’s pants the last embers of their fire faded away and they were blanketed in a thick fog of darkness.

#

Green Polo Man sank a shot three under par, and the Blue and Yellow Polo Men cheered. Niall barely mustered a smile. He knew what was about to happen.

“Good job!” one of them said to Green Polo Man, and leaned in for a kiss. 

“Thanks!” he said, and then accepted kisses from the other. Niall halfheartedly leaned forward, but Green Polo Man just laughed.

“Only winners get kisses, Niall,” he chastised. “You know that.”

Niall scowled at him. The man booped his nose, and turned to his companions, who were winners. “Should we move on?” he asked, and they agreed.

This wasn’t how it had been the day before. Niall had hurried down the hill to meet his new friends, the golf men, and they’d welcomed him eagerly. They’d whistled in delight when he sank a shot, and he had received many a kiss as a reward for his good strokes, but this day was different. He wasn’t doing nearly as well. In fact, as the men kept reminding him, he was doing the worst out of anyone there. He was intensely aware that he was the only one who had not been kissed yet. 

He’d tried to argue his way into one, but the argument that rested on the thesis of “it’s  _ my  _ fantasy” didn’t seem to work on these men; they didn’t seem aware that they were even part of a fantasy. They just kept golfing and kissing and kissing and golfing and ignoring Niall when he cried.

“Hey, uh, watch this, you guys!” Niall called, waggling his butt as he lined up what looked to him like an easy shot. The men looked up from where they’d been trading kisses and watched him the way a longsuffering parent might watch their child’s third living room ballet recital of the day.

Niall pulled back his club and swung it down hard, hitting the ball with a satisfying  _ thwack! _

He watched as the ball soared about thirty feet to the left of his target.

“Too bad, Niall,” Blue Polo Man said, clapping a warm hand on Niall’s shoulder. “Maybe next time, right?”

Niall looked to the other men who had all lined up with their pelvises pressed together, each man’s front pressed to another’s back, all helping to guide the arms of the man at the front as he pulled back his own club. They moved together as a seamless unit to send the ball flying through the air and straight into the next hole in one perfect stroke.

The men cheered, staying close together as they took turns pecking each other’s lips and patting each other’s backsides.

“Can I get in on this?” Blue Polo Man grinned, jogging over to the conga line of Niall’s dreams.

“Of course!” Red Polo Man laughed. The men eagerly folded him into the line and showered him with kisses and gentle but firm pats. “Love that hole.”

“Love that hole!” the other men chorused back.

Niall swung his club over his head and threw it as hard as he could, letting out a scream of frustration and kneeling down to the ground to smack the grass with his fists.

“Ooh, so close!” the men called when his club landed a short ways away. “Maybe next time, right?”

“No!” Niall shouted, tearing out clumps of grass as tears fell from his face. “No, no,  _ no! _ ”

He pulled himself to his feet and stomped over to the hole, wrenching the flag from the ground and slamming it down over his knee. Rather than break like he wanted it to, the flag just sent a sharp blow to his knee that sent him back down to the ground in a heap of frustrated tears.

“Ooh, so close!”

“Maybe next time, right?”

“Love that hole!”

“Stop it!” Niall sobbed. “Stop!”

He pulled himself back to his feet, limping just a bit, and blew his nose on the sleeve of his polo.

“I don’t want to play with you anymore,” he frowned.

The men just shrugged.

“More kisses for us, I guess,” Orange Polo Man said.

The others cheered, and began yet another cycle of kisses.

Niall threw the flag pole towards the men and stormed off in the direction of the trees, not bothering to hide his tears as there was no one to see them.

#

When Liam awoke he saw that his turtle was still in the same place it had fallen asleep, nestled safe between Liam’s pecks. Liam tucked his chin against his chest and smiled as the turtle’s small green head peaked out from his shell. He watched as each of its feet crept out, one by one, and the turtle stretched his legs.

“One, two, three, four, five,” Liam counted happily.

He froze.

“Five?” he muttered, picking up the turtle and sitting up in his bed. “That can’t be right.”

He held the turtle up and counted its legs again, and then one more time.

Five legs.

One more than it’d had yesterday.

“Five,” Liam frowned, then nodded to himself. “Well I guess that’s alright. It can’t be bad to have an extra. I know turtles can lose those pretty easy. Yeah, five’s probably good.”

A sixth leg emerged from within the turtle’s shell.

“Hmmm,” Liam frowned down at the turtle. “That might be too many.”

Liam decided that he would eat breakfast and then he would call on Simon and see if he could take back a few of the turtle’s legs. He set the turtle on the ground beside a pile of lettuce and cut up fruits and took a large tupperware dish from the fridge. He’d made a huge pot of pasta for dinner the night before and had saved the rest for later, excited to eat his special morning-pasta the next day. He hummed to himself as he placed the dish in the microwave and pressed some buttons to start it.

While he waited for the timer to ding he looked to the spot he’d left the turtle but found it empty. All of the food had been eaten and the turtle was nowhere to be seen.

“Turtle?” Liam called, leaning down to look under the table and between the cabinets. “Where’d you go?”

The microwave dinged and Liam eagerly grabbed a pair of oven mitts. He opened the door of the microwave and scooped up the heavy dish of pasta, sighing as he inhaled the heavenly scent of starch, tomato and oregano.

“ _ Yummy yummy pasta yummy, yummy yummy for my tummy _ ,” he sang, swaying his hips as he turned towards the counter to set down the dish. Before he made it all the way though he was startled by the sudden appearance of his turtle, its many legs moving in a blur as it zoomed across the floor.

Liam let out a shriek as it careened past his feet and the dish of pasta went flying. Liam watched in horror as it landed heavily on the ground, splattering loose spaghetti and globs of red sauce all over the kitchen and Liam himself.

“My pasta...” he cried sadly. “Stupid, stupid, smelly pasta boy...”

He heard the sound of a dozen tiny feet pattering across the floor and he leapt in fear, looking around frantically for somewhere to hide.

  
  


#

Louis was lost.

He’d evidently been wandering in a loose circle. It took him a long time before he came across another person, and even that was a loose definition; he came across Zayn’s bungalow at some point. He could smell Zayn on it, which was interesting. His smelling and hearing were crazy good now. 

There was an open window, and he trotted up to it, listening intently to the words he could hear drifting through it. It sounded like Zayn, which ruled out it being video game dialogue.

“Hey, Lucy Hale,” Zayn said. Louis could smell pizza and weed wafting through the window. “Yeah, it’s going great. Thanks for telling me about this place.”

There was a pause as the person on the other line, evidently named Lucy Hale, spoke.

Zayn laughed.

“Yeah, I’ve been checking in on them,” he said. “Simon set up all these security cameras so I can watch them. There’s only one screen through, so I’ve got to flip around a lot. Mostly I’ve been watching Liam this morning. He’s really afraid of that turtle. Right now he’s hiding in the bathtub cause he thinks turtles are afraid of water. God, I hate my stupid former bandmates.”

Louis gasped, as much as a dog can gasp. Zayn hated them? Even Louis?

“Yeah, even Louis,” Zayn continued. “They turned him into a dog. He’s just been lost all morning, it got kind of boring to watch. I should check in on him though, see if he fell in a bear trap or anything.”

Louis scrambled away from the window and ran back into the woods, his tiny dog brain reeling. Did Zayn really hate him? Louis had always assumed that Zayn was secretly in love with him. Could Zayn really have been planning this whole weekend just to torture the four of them?

Louis needed to warn the others, if only he could find them before more harm fell on them!

#

When Harry awoke the sun was high in the sky and there was a solid body against his back. He snuggled more firmly into the embrace and tightened his arms around the body pressed to his front. He paused, opening his eyes and finding himself nose-to-nose with a rather dejected looking irishman.

“Niall?” Harry frowned. He turned to look over his shoulder at Derek who looked as confused as he was.

“Hi, Harry,” Niall said glumly. “Hi, Harry’s boyfriend.” Derek startled. “Can I hang out with you guys for a while? I was having a really good time kissing all my golf men but now they just kiss each other and I don’t want to watch that. It makes me sad.”

“Oh, Niall,” Harry said sympathetically. “That sounds terrible. Of course you can stay with us for a while.”

Derek looked around for his shirt, or his pants, or anything. He had been awake since the crack of dawn but had been trapped in place by Harry who laid fast asleep on top of Derek’s arm. He might have moved him and gotten free but he’d spent the past twenty-four hours listening to Harry talk about pregnancy and fruit-themed baby names and the health benefits of placentas and he didn’t want to risk waking him and losing a few hours of silence.

But then the sad man in the golf clothes found them. Derek had watched helplessly as the man simply nodded to him and fit himself against Harry’s other side, waiting patiently for the pregnant man to wake up, all while Derek wondered if this was the true price he’d have to pay for his five years of peaceful fishing.

Derek found his pants and pulled them on.

Harry sat up and the blanket that had covered his belly fell away.

“Holy shite!” Niall said. “Your stomach’s  _ huge!” _

“Of course it is,” Harry said. “I’m  _ pregnant. _ With my  _ baby _ .”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s supposed to get  _ that  _ big  _ that _ fast.”

Harry shrugged. “Well, we’re only here for a few days, I figured it was all just sped up so I could experience all of it.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Niall said, still frowning at Harry’s watermelon-sized belly.

Derek had managed to find and put on most of his clothes, and was standing as far back as he could without it being extremely rude, although he had been on this island for five years and so misjudged that distance due to his lack of social interactions lately.

“So who’s that, then?” Niall asked, gesturing to Derek. “Why’s he standing so far away?”

“I’m Derek,” Derek frowned. “Who’re you?”

“Derek!” Harry scolded. “Be nice, he’s my friend! We’re in a band together, I’m surprised you don’t know who he is.”

“You’re in a band?” Derek asked.

“I told you that!”

“Yeah, but everybody’s  _ in a band _ ,” Derek argued. “That could have just been a line.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not true!”

“Niall,” Harry said abruptly, shifting his attention. “This is Derek. He lives here because he doesn’t like loud things or other people’s problems. Derek, this is Niall. He’s having a hard day.”

“Yeah,” Niall nodded sadly. “I thought Fantasy Island was supposed to give us everything we wanted but I don't want this. I just wanted to play golf and get kisses but everything’s  _ wrong _ .”

“Hmm,” Harry said, petting over his belly while he thought. “Maybe we could find one of the others and you could switch. Obviously I’m not switching because my fantasy is perfect and everything is going exactly how I wanted it to but maybe Liam or Louis or the other one would want to switch with you.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Niall sniffled. 

“Okay, well if you need me I’ll just be-” Derek said, stepping back towards his fish and his river.

“Derek, you can help us find the others, can’t you?” Harry asked expectantly. “You’ve been on this island longer than any of us, you’ve got to know your way around.”

“Actually I’ve only ever stayed at this one spot in the river,” Derek pointed out but still reluctantly helped Harry to his feet.

“So how did you end up here?” Niall asked while they walked.

“Well, it all started when my adult high school girlfriend burned down my family home,” Derek began.

#

Liam strained his ears for any hint of sound, his eyes darting around manically as he searched the floor around him. It had been quiet for too long and his whole body was on edge, muscles clamped tight as he crouched on top of the kitchen counter, a plastic spatula clutched between his hands and held at the ready.

He began to wonder if maybe the turtle had finally gotten worn out from all of its wild running around the bungalow, if maybe it had fallen asleep the way it liked to in the palm of Liam’s hand or at the center of his chest. He wondered if maybe his sweet turtle had returned, if they could be best friends once again.

Tentatively, Liam lowered one foot towards the floor.

The sudden blur of a skittering, twenty-legged turtle made Liam scream in fright. As he pressed himself back against the kitchen cabinets the front door burst open.

“Liam, are you alright?” Niall called. “We heard screaming!”

“Close the door!” Liam shouted. “Quick, before- !”

“What  _ is  _ that?” Niall yelled, jumping out of the way as a small flash of green darted past him. Harry yelped and jumped into Derek’s arms as it zoomed between his feet and disappeared into the forest.

“That was my turtle,” Liam said sadly from atop the counter.

“Oh, um, sorry,” Harry told him. “Should we go look for it?”

“No, no,” Liam shook his head firmly. “It’s the reason I’ve been trapped up on this counter. It wouldn’t stop running around and startling me. I dropped my pasta all over the ground.”

“Not your pasta!” gasped Harry.

“Yeah.” Liam nodded forlornly down at the splatters of pasta sauce that covered the kitchen. “I thought this weekend would be good, that I’d get to see my turtle again fully intact and share my favorite food with it. Instead everything’s been going wrong.”

“Well I can’t relate because my weekend has been amazing but Niall’s been having a bad time too,” Harry told him.

“Yeah,” Niall agreed. “This weekend has been awful. It started out so good but then everything went wrong.”

“Huh,” Derek said, still carrying Harry bridal-style in his arms.

“What, babe?” Harry asked.

“I was just thinking, it’s strange that both of their fantasies went so wrong. That’s not the sort of thing that happens here normally. The whole island is set up to cater to your fantasies, to make sure that everything goes perfectly. There shouldn’t be this big of a margin of error.”

“You think there’s something wrong with the island?” Liam frowned.

“Maybe,” Derek shrugged. “So far two out of three of your fantasies have gone wrong. I think we’d better find your other bandmates and see how theirs are going.”

“I think you’re right,” Liam agreed.

“Let’s go,” Niall nodded.

# 

When they got to Louis’ bungalow they were all shocked to find it ransacked, scratches littering the walls and gouges on the doors as if a wild animal had torn it apart.

“Jesus,” Niall muttered, looking around at the overturned furniture and chewed up shoes. “Do you think something dangerous could have gotten in and attacked him?”

“No,” Derek said before anyone else could answer. “No, the scratches are only inside. Something was trying to get out but nothing forced its way in.”

“What was it?” Liam frowned. “And where’s Louis?”

“Bring me something of his,” Derek instructed. “Something with his scent on it.”

“His scent?” Harry asked.

Derek just nodded.

When Liam handed him a t-shirt from Louis’ suitcase he held it up to his face and inhaled. The other three watched curiously as he tilted his face up and followed his nose to the backdoor where a rubber flap was set into the wood.

“He went this way,” Derek declared and ran out into the woods. Niall, Harry and Liam rushed to follow him.

“How are you doing this?” Harry asked, waddling as fast as he could while supporting his belly with his hands.

“I’m a werewolf,” Derek said simply, circling a tree that seemed to be a favorite of Louis’. He led them all through the forest before finally they heard a bark in the distance. “That’s him.”

A fluffy brown dog came bounding through the trees and circled them, jumping and barking wildly.

“Louis?” Harry said, his eyes wide. He crouched down as well as he could in his heavily pregnant condition. “Calm down, boy. What is it?”

Louis The Dog kept barking, more instantly now.

“Louis, we can’t understand you,” Niall told him, kneeling beside Harry.

“I can help,” Derek said reluctantly. He knelt down on Harry’s other side. His eyes flashed a quick glowing red and Louis seemed to calm. “Louis, tell us what happened.”

Louis barked again but Derek seemed to understand him.

“Simon turned him into a dog as part of a ‘carefree weekend,’” Derek translated. Louis barked some more. “He says this has all been planned. The island has been torturing all of you all weekend.”

The three former-boybanders gasped.

“Who would do such a thing?” Harry asked.

Louis barked grimly.

“It was Zayn.”

“No!” Liam cried. “It couldn’t be!”

“Zayn would never do this,” Niall protested. “He loves us!”

“Zayn’s been secretly in love with me for  _ years _ ,” Harry insisted. “He’d never want to hurt me.”

Louis barked again.

“It’s true,” Derek told them. “Louis heard him say it.”

“We need to find him,” Liam decided. “Maybe this is all just a big misunderstanding. Maybe we can talk it out.”

“Yeah,” Niall nodded, standing up. “I’m sure when he hears about the kissing he’ll take it all back.”

“Let’s find him,” Harry agreed. He hobbled to his feet and immediately toppled over into Derek’s arms. “Whoops!”

“Harry, you don’t look so good,” Liam frowned.

“I’m fine, just pregnant,” Harry waved him off.

“Christ, Harry!” Niall shouted, staring in horror as the skin of Harry’s belly rippled and stretched as the shape of a little hand pressed against it from the inside. “I think I’m gonna faint.”

“Don’t be rude, Niall,” Harry frowned. “I have a miracle inside of me.”

“Harry, it’s not supposed to look like that,” Liam said, looking a bit squeamish himself. “I think you might be  _ too _ pregnant.”

“No such thing,” Harry insisted. Then he smiled. “Maybe it’s twins.”

“I think it’s a toddler,” Niall said when a foot pressed out beside Harry’s belly button.

“I think they’re right,” Derek told him. “The baby’s been in there too long with the sped up growth rate. I think we need to induce labor.”

“No!” Harry cried. “I wanted a natural birth! No doctors or drugs or anything. Just me and my baby in a bathtub full of afterbirth. That’s what I want.”

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned.

“Is that what you wrote on the papers? If we can get you back to your bungalow I’m sure they’ll have it all set up and waiting.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry nodded. He let Derek guide him with an arm around his waist as they started a slow walk back to his bungalow. “I’m sure they know. That’s what I would have written.”

“ _ Would have? _ ” Niall asked, exchanging a look with Liam. “What do you mean,  _ would have? _ ”

“That’s what I would have written if I’d had room,” Harry told them.

“Harry,” Liam said slowly. “How exactly did you describe the birth to them?”

Harry chewed on his lip and focussed on the forest floor, carefully stepping over wayward roots and sticks.

“I, erm, didn’t get to that part.”

“You didn’t get to the birth?” Niall scoffed.

“They only gave me eight pages!” Harry explained. “I barely got to the third trimester with that!”

“So you didn’t write anything about how the baby would come out?” Derek clarified, feeling his headache bloom. “You didn’t ask for a birth canal?”

“Um. No. I guess I didn’t.”

“Alright,” Derek sighed. He scooped Harry up bridal style again and started instead towards the main building of the island. “Let’s find Simon. Hopefully there’s a doctor at the resort.”

#

There was not a doctor at the resort.

“What are you all doing here?” Simon exclaimed when he saw their ragtag group hobble into the lobby. “You’re supposed to be enjoying your fantasy weekend!”

“Bark bark!” Louis barked, which probably meant something like “The ruse is up so you’d better drop the act and help us!” or it might have meant “Fook off!” Only Derek and Louis would know, really.

Either way Simon was easily pushed aside as the group shoved their way into his office. Derek laid Harry gently across the desk and Harry groaned weakly at the jostling. He felt heavy and too-full, as if he’d eaten three Thanksgiving meals and then those meals came to life and started punching him in the ribs.

“We need a doctor,” Liam told Simon. “Harry’s got to give birth. Call someone, quickly!”

“We don’t have any doctors here,” Simon said coolly. “This is  _ Fan- _ tasy Island, there’s no need for doctors. Not when you have  _ fanta _ -”

Niall closed the door on him and quickly locked it when the handle started to jiggle. They all ignored the pounding and shouting from outside and turned back to Harry who was looking pale.

“You two,” Derek ordered. “Distract him. I’ll try to take away as much pain as I can.”

He laid his hand on Harry’s hip and Niall and Liam watched with wide eyes as lines of black snaked up Derek’s forearm. Derek winced and lifted his other hand, unsheathing his claws.

“Heyyy Harry,” Niall smiled weakly, leaning over Harry’s head. “You ready for your baby? It’s baby time!”

“ _ Baby time _ ,” Harry repeated feebly.

“Yeah, baby time,” Niall nodded.

Harry tried to smile, but at that moment, Derek sank claws into his distended belly, deep, avoiding the moving limbs of the baby inside. Both of them winced. Niall clasped a hand over his mouth as Derek moved his hand from Harry’s hip to the new opening in his stomach, widening it and reaching inside.

Harry grit his teeth, but whatever Derek was doing to leech the pain was working. He could feel what was happening, but distantly. Pressure, then movement. Like what an epidural would feel like, he reasoned, not that he would ever  _ choose _ a birth that made him so distant from his child in that moment.

He looked down just in time to see Derek pull the baby’s head from the hole. Its arms and legs moved wildly, and Derek tightened his grip on it to cut the cord with his claws. Over the sudden sound of the baby crying, Harry could hear the sound of Niall throwing up.

Still holding the baby in one hand, Derek pressed his blood soaked palm to Harry’s stomach, holding the wound together. Slowly, the edges of the cut came back together, healing Harry.

Derek heaved a sigh of relief and finally took his hand away, reaching for Harry’s face, but stopping.

“Oh, right,” he said, looking down at his gross hand. “Uh, here.” He wiped his hand on his shirt, then pulled it over his head and wrapped the baby in it before handing her to Harry. “It’s a girl, by the way.”

Harry gently held the tiny bundle against his chest. He guided the baby’s mouth to his nipple and cooed happily as she latched on.

“So you wrote about whether or not you wanted to produce breast milk but not whether or not you’d have a birth canal,” Liam said, eyeing the nursing infant.

“Oh breast milk was on the first page,” Harry nodded. “It’s very important for a mother and child to bond like this.”

The door knob began to jiggle again after having been still a long while and they all turned as the door opened. Simon stood triumphantly holding a key and at his side was none other than their former bandmate, Zayn.

“Zayn!” Liam exclaimed.

“Zayn!” Niall cried.

“Bark!” Louis barked.

“I had a baby!” Harry announced.

Nothing, said Derek, who didn’t know the man in the doorway but he could reasonably assume it was Zayn.

“Is it true?” Liam asked. “Did you really plan this whole weekend to torture us?”

“How could you do it, Zayn?” Niall demanded. “How could you let them do that to me?”

“Bark bark bark,” Louis barked angrily.

“Did you see my baby?” Harry asked.

Again Derek said nothing.

“Everybody quiet!” Zayn shouted. When the room went silent he stepped fully into the office. “Yes, it’s true. I planned this whole thing after my friend Lucy Hale told me about this island. She said it would be a good place for me to seek revenge.”

“Revenge?” Niall gasped. “Revenge for what?”

“For everything,” Zayn replied. “For ten years of you lot being the worst friends anyone could have.”

“What?” Liam said sadly. “But we love you, Zayn! We thought you loved us too.”

“Name  _ one _ time we’ve been bad friends!” Niall demanded. “We’re the best friends!”

“My birthday, 2015,” Zayn countered. “Every single one of you forgot. I walked around the entire day wearing a birthday hat and a birthday badge, carrying a birthday cupcake, and not one of you wished me a happy birthday.”

Louis barked and Zayn looked down at him.

“Oh yes, of course,” he rolled his eyes. “Louis said happy birthday when he saw all my hints. I told him it was okay if he’d forgotten but he kept denying it. Just kept saying that he’d never have forgotten. Then he moved his arms behind his back and struggled for a few minutes before handing me my ‘present’ which was his own watch, engraved with his full name.”

“I’m sorry, Zayn,” Harry frowned from his place on the desk. “That must have sucked for you.”

“Yeah, especially when you ate my birthday cupcake,” Zayn replied.

Everyone looked at Harry who looked away guiltily.

“Would you like to tell them what you told me when I saw you eating it?” Zayn asked.

Harry bit his lip.

“Erm, I said I needed it for the baby.”

“And were you pregnant?”

“I was not.”

“So who was the baby?”

“... Me.”

“So, do you all see why I had to do this? To finally get some sense of closure for myself?” Zayn asked them all.

“This still seems a little harsh,” Liam frowned. “Harry could have  _ died _ , Zayn.”

“Actually that part wasn’t my fault,” Zayn said. “I knew he’d choose pregnancy as his fantasy but I figured it would just be uncomfortable and he’d realise he hated it and then the birth would suck but it would be what he signed up for. I didn’t realise he’d forget to include a birth plan and almost kill himself with his own baby. That part’s all him.”

Again they looked to Harry who nodded reluctantly.

“How’s the baby?” Zayn asked halfheartedly.

“ _ Perfect _ ,” Harry smiled. “Look!”

He thrust the baby towards Zayn who took a step back.

“Er, that’s good.”

He leaned a bit closer and used the tip of his finger to pull back the shirt she was wrapped in to get a better look at her pink little face. He jumped in surprise when five tiny little fingers wrapped around his own, their grip surprisingly strong.

“Oh!” he said.

“She loves you!” Harry grinned. “Look, everybody! My baby has her first godfather!”

“Harry, you almost died because of Zayn,” Derek reminded him.

“But I would never have had my baby without him,” Harry argued. “Plus they’ve already bonded.”

He looked back to Zayn who had a small reluctant smile on his face as he gazed down at the baby who still held tight to his finger. They all gasped when her eyes suddenly flashed a glowing yellow.

“Does that mean..?” Harry asked, looking to Derek who nodded.

“I don’t understand,” Derek frowned. “Wolves are only born to wolf parents, and you’re not a werewolf.”

They all went quiet for a moment, looking at the baby. “You know,” Harry said finally. “Even when her eyes aren’t all weird, they kind of look like yours.”

“They do,” Liam agreed. 

“Harry-” Derek choked out, suddenly overwhelmed by the idea that had just come to him. “In your eight pages, did you… did you specify a father?”

“No,” Harry said. “That wasn’t the important part.”

“Well,” Derek said, trying to wrap his head around it. “I think- since I was the only man on the island when it was putting together all the fantasies, I think I might be…”

He let the implication hang in the air

“Wow!” Harry exclaimed looking down at his baby. “You really  _ are _ a miracle!”

“Have you thought about names?” Liam asked.

“Wait,” Niall said. “Wasn’t Simon here?”

“Gross,” Harry dismissed, then turned to Liam. “Of course,” he nodded eagerly. “I’ve got my list right here!”

He reached into the waistband of his maternity yoga pants and pulled out a worn piece of paper.

“Here.” He handed it to Derek. “Any of those are good.”

“ _ Taylee _ ,” Derek read with a deep furrow between his brows. “ _ Mckarty. Nayvie. Maylee. Laklynn. _ ”

He crumpled up the paper and tossed it towards the wastebasket of Niall’s sick.

“Hey!” Harry protested.

“Those weren’t names,” Derek told him. “No child of mine will be named  _ Taylee _ .”

“Then what do you suggest?” Harry huffed.

“What about,” Zayn said softly, gazing down at the baby, “Chloe?”

“Chloe,” Harry mused, watching as the baby blew a small bubble of spit. He smiled. “What do you think?” he asked Derek.

“I think it’s perfect,” he said, a smile breaking through his gruff demeanor. “I think you’re both perfect.”

#

“Well, Zayn,” Harry said much later when they were all gathered once more on the dock. “Can we expect you at the Christening?”

“You cannot,” Zayn told him. “Please none of you contact me ever again.”

“Alright, boys,” Simon Cowell said, approaching them. “I’ve got two planes for you here. This first one is for Mr. Hale, who I thought had left the island years ago, and will take him back to California. The second is for the five of you and will take you back to England.”

Harry turned to Derek, clutching baby Chloe against his chest.

“Won’t you come back home with us?” he asked worriedly. “You can’t just leave us!”

“Of course I won’t,” Derek assured him. “I’ll go wherever you go, forever. You’re my family now.”

They kissed tearfully, their baby slightly smushed between them.

“Hey, Zayn,” Simon Cowell said. Zayn turned to him reluctantly. “You know, I’ve been looking for an assistant...”

Zayn said nothing.

Simon Cowell continued.

“And you’ve got all those tattoos... Maybe we could call you... Tat-”

“Nope,” Zayn said. “No, I’m leaving. Goodbye forever, to all of you.”

Before anyone could stop him he climbed into the plane bound for England and flew straight into the clouds, leaving the rest of them behind.

“So I guess we’re all going to California then, huh?” Niall said.

“I guess so,” Liam agreed.

“I’ve always thought San Francisco would be a nice place to raise a family,” Harry said.

“Bark bark!” Louis barked.

“I love you all,” Harry grinned. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you guys!”

And so the three men, werewolf, dog and baby flew away from Fantasy Island to start the next fantasy of their life.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for Fantasy Island (2020) 2: The Squequel: Full House, coming soon!
> 
> (louis is the dog)


End file.
